


Memories after all

by LittleTurtle95



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Caring Carlos Reyes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e15 Eddie Begins, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Not Really Character Death, Presumed Dead, TK Strand Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleTurtle95/pseuds/LittleTurtle95
Summary: “Everything he remembered was being underwater, and not being able to breathe. He groaned, and looked around to focus on his surroundings. It looked like he was in some kind of woods, but he had no idea where. It was supposed to be New York maybe? He was almost sure that was where he lived. There was no city in sight, only trees.He struggled to stand up and looked down at himself. Why was he in the middle of a forest, with only his boxers on, near a small lake? Why was he so cold? And hungry?”Or, the one where TK almost drowns on a call and loses all his memories.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Michelle Blake & Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star), Owen Strand & TK Strand
Comments: 34
Kudos: 194





	Memories after all

**Author's Note:**

> I got this two prompts on Tumblr, “Eddie Begins with Tarlos” and “Memory Loss” and I thought they could fit, so I mixed them up.  
> Enjoy!

_“All this precious moments_

_That we carved in stone_

_Are only memories after all”_

It all started with a normal call. It always starts with a normal call. There was a little boy missing, his parents had been looking for him for almost one day, and when Carlos arrived there with his partner they were on the verge of a breakdown. 

They had brought the dogs, looked for him all over the property, and when he finally had the idea to look at old plans and found him in a well that was supposed to be closed they knew the only sensible thing to do was to call the Fire Department. They were the ones specialised on this kind of accidents. 

Carlos sat down with the parents, he tried to keep them calm with his partner – a quite impossible task – and waited near the well to make sure the boy was awake, calling him once in a while and listening carefully to his comebacks.

When the 126 showed up, the weather had already started to go bad. _Nuclear bad,_ as TK would have said. 

He greeted him and his colleagues with some small nods – it wasn’t really time for cordialities – and he looked at the black cloudy sky with a frown, looking as Owen approached to the hole on the ground from afar. 

“The weather is getting worse. They have to be quick or they won’t make it,” Cass, his partner, said looking up with a frown.

Just as she finished to say the words, a lightning lit up the sky for a moment, and everything went blinding white. The thunder that followed made Carlos’ ears ring and he felt the vibrations deep in his bones. When everything went silent again, it started to rain hard.

“Fuck.”

He looked over at Owen directing orders under the rain, gesturing for Judd to drive the auger near the well to drill the ground and do a parallel hole for someone to go down and take the kid.

The two parents were hugging right next to him, she was sobbing with her face on his shoulder, he was holding her for dear life with unfocused eyes and tears on his cheeks, neither of them caring about the rain.

“Fucking hell,” Cass cursed wiping the wet hair off her forehead, clearly minding more than the man and the woman next to her about being completely drenched. 

The auger started to drill and everything they heard suddenly was the loud screech of the machine, and the only thing they felt besides the thick warm water that soaked their clothes was the rumble of the ground under their feet.

Carlos spotted Paul coming towards them, directed to the parents. He gave him a pat on his shoulder and Carlos managed to smile weakly at him.

“He’s not answering anymore, he’s probably passed out for exhaustion,” he informed the parents, nearly shouting to let them hear over the sound of the storm and the drill. “One of us is going down there to take him as soon as the hole is done. If it keeps raining like this we won’t have much time, the water could fill up the well and it will be too late, but we’re trying to be quick.”

“Please, bring him back,” the man said, his voice broken and barely audible with all the mess going on. “I don’t know what I’d do if he doesn’t come back.”

“The only thing I can promise sir is that we’re doing everything we can. We can still save him, we only have to be fast,” Paul reasoned, trying to sound comforting.

The drill sound stopped, and Judd jumped off the auger, gesturing them to come closer. 

“We’re going to give you a radio so you’ll call for him when our man is down there, got it?” he said, handing them his radio with a pitiful look. 

The woman nodded solemnly, it looked like the sobs had quieted down a bit, and accepted it with shaky hands. Another lighting fell, closer this time, and all Carlos’ insides clenched as the thunder roared.

“Come TK, let’s get you equipped,” he heard Owen say. He felt a sudden strong urge to snap _why does it have to be him?_ but he knew he couldn’t, so he bit his lower lip to stay silent.

Cass looked at him with understanding, and carefully put a hand on his back to show some support. 

_It’s just a kid in a well,_ he thought, _he’s gonna take him and come right back._

“We’re going to give you two minutes, not a second more,” Owen said, instructing his son. “As soon as you’re done, pull the rope twice and we’ll lift you up with the kid. If you don’t pull the rope, after two minutes we’re going to lift you up anyway. Got it?”

TK checked on his harness and nodded. “Go down, take the kid, two pulls of the rope, two minutes max. Yessir,” he said, putting on his helmet. 

Carlos was looking at him with a stern look, frozen still; he knew if he let himself move he could do something stupid like grab him and beg him to send someone else down instead.

TK looked up and their eyes locked. He gave him the smallest smile, smile that Carlos couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate, and the hole on the ground swallowed him whole. 

The rope started to slowly go down, deeper and deeper.

 _Five feet radio check. Over._ The radio buzzed in Owen’s hand. He was making sure they still heard him.

“Roger,” he said, his face was an emotionless mask but Carlos knew he was worried sick.

_Ten feet radio check. Over._

“Roger,” Owen repeated.

_Fift’n feet r’dio ch’k. Alm’st done. ‘Ver._

“Weak but readble,” Owen said, and they heard a muffled sound on the radio in response. “The parents will call for him on the radio, and you’ll have to wait for him to yell back, then you’re going to find him.”

_Wilco. Th’nk s’ s’mthing. Gonn-_

After that, radio silence. 

“Agent Strand, radio check,” Owen called, his voice starting to betray concern. “Agent Strand, do you copy?”

Marjan groaned, looking down the hole in worry. “What do we do cap? We bring him back? We can’t leave him down with no signal.”

“No,” Owen said. Carlos could see how much it costed to say so. “If we lift him up we won’t have another chance, we’ll lose the kid. It’s raining too much, the well will fill up and he’ll drown.”

“Thirty seconds out, ninety to go cap,” Judd said, looking at his watch. 

“Call for him,” Owen suggested, directed to the parents. “We can’t hear them but maybe they can hear us.”

The woman brought the radio closer to her mouth. Her husband was holding her from behind, shaking visibly. “Cody? Cody baby, can you hear me? It’s mum,” she said with a broken voice. Only a faint buzz came in response.

“Yeah, just like that,” Owen said, “just keep going. You’re doing great.”

“There is a man down for you sweetheart,” she went on, “go to him, will you? Follow my voice. It’s going to be okay baby. It’s going to be okay.”

“One minute out, one left,” Judd said.

The woman kept whispering praises and sweet talks on the radio, and no one answered.

“Two minute over, cap. Time to lift him up.”

“What if he’s almost there? What if he needs more time?” Paul asked, fidgeting with his hands. 

“We can’t handle almost,” said Judd. “We have to take him out and hope he has the kid, or they’ll both drown.”

“Oh my God,” Carlos heard the man whine, “please Lord, let him have the kid. Please.”

He was this close to yell _so are you going to lift him up or do I have to do that myself?_ but Owen suddenly nodded, and Paul and Judd started to pull on the rope.

Paul grunted. “It’s stuck. Or he’s fighting,” he muttered, trying to pull with all his strength. Marjan and Mateo joined, grabbing the rope and helping them pull. 

After a few seconds, they all fell with their asses on the ground.

“The hell-?” Judd cursed, standing up, and Mateo pulled the rope up all the way with wide eyes, more easily than humanly possible.

When they saw the end of it they immediately understood why. 

“Fuck, TK!” Owen cursed, and Carlos stared at the cut rope holding his breath, then looked at all the water flooding down the hole on the ground, and had to bit his lips again not to scream in frustration. 

_Why does he have to be always like this?_

He tasted blood in his mouth and realised he was biting too hard.

“Enough, I’m going down,” Marjan said, grabbing a harness. 

Owen took it from her hands. “Yeah, so we’ll have two cut ropes, good idea.” The woman rolled her eyes. “Probie is going,” Owen said.

“Yessir,” the man immediately agreed, and started to dress up. 

Carlos groaned slightly. He didn’t want to intervene but _really_ ? It wasn’t like he didn’t trust the new guy, and he knew he was probably the lighter so it would have been easier to lift him up and down, and he was the one more prone to follow orders but… again, _really?_ He was the new guy, this was almost certainly his first important mission, they couldn’t think it was okay to put TK’s life in his hands, could they?

Okay, so, _maybe_ he really didn’t trust the new guy with TK’s life, but TK’s life was the most important thing in the universe for Carlos, so screw him if he didn’t.

He just really wanted to go down himself, but he knew he wasn’t trained for that, he would probably be no help down there and he didn’t want to make things worse. 

“I’m giving you one minute Chavez, don’t waste it,” Owen said, and the new guy nodded solemnly.

“Please,” he whispered, so low nobody would have heard him even without the screams of the storms. “Please don’t waste it.”

The new rope went down, and almost immediately after, they saw it tense twice. The couple next to him was nearly having a double panic attack, and Carlos could totally relate with the feeling. After a few seconds of tense silence, Mateo’s grinning face peeked up from the hole, with a shivering six year old kid in his arms. 

“Cody!” the woman screamed, and ran after the kid, nearly falling in the hole herself. Paul held her as she took the kid from Mateo’s hands, kissing her son all over his face, squeezing him tight. The man soon joined, and they engulfed him with a blanket. 

Carlos couldn’t care less.

“He’s okay,” Mateo said, and that made Carlos’ heart finally expand in relief. “He was just really close to the kid when we wanted to take him out.”

He put his feet on solid ground and got free of the rope, ready to send it down. Carlos was more than ready to call it a day. He had full intentions to kidnap his _almost - maybe - not - really - but - basically_ boyfriend, drag him to his place and scold him to death for the crazy stunt then kiss him and fuck him senseless to forget this nightmare of a call, when it happened.

A lighting hit the auger making it blow up, then everything went black.

When Carlos opened his eyes again, he didn’t even remember he zoned out. He was on the ground, covered in dirt and mud, it was still raining on him, and he couldn’t hear shit besides the loud ring in his ears. 

He blinked a few times, his body and mind coming back from the void, and he started to hear the screams.

 _Fuck, TK._ He thought, and jolted up on his feet, stumbling towards the well. His mind was still fuzzy, and he barely managed to stand on his feet, but he had to see everything was okay. He had to see he was safe. 

He frowned when he didn’t see the hole on the ground. Marjan and Mateo were still down for the blowup, Cass had long gone inside with the kid and his family, and Owen…

_No. Fuck, no. No._

Owen was trying to dig in the mud with his hands, screaming his son’s name like his life depended on it. There was no hole on the ground, no well, only dirt and water. Lots of dirt and water. He saw Judd stumble forward and grab Owen by the shoulders, dragging him away, but the man kept struggling to break free and he screamed louder. 

Carlos stepped towards them, his heart beating so fast it almost ripped off his chest, when he felt two arms holding him back.

“It’s dangerous,” Paul’s voice said, keeping him still, “you can’t help him. Don’t go.”

“No,” he yelled back. “No, he’s still down there. We have to go down! We have to!” 

He felt his breath going faster, and his mind get numb. He tried to push Paul away but couldn’t, all the strength leaving his body all of a sudden.

Owen had got rid of Judd somehow, still digging with his bare hands on the ground, and Carlos felt a blinding pain in his chest, like his heart was just stabbed, and heard more screams, finally realising they were his own.

“I know,” Paul said, soothing, in his ear. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeated, but he didn’t have to be sorry, Paul couldn’t be sorry, there was still hope, they could still do something, there had to be something.

The man somehow managed to push him in the house. Time passed like blur, he had no idea how long he spent sitting on a couch, still soaking wet, shivering for the cold and shock, while someone he couldn’t recognise was going in and out talking about going outside to find the body.

 _The body._ That’s how they called him now.

Judd was sitting on the floor, leaning with his back on the wall, his head tilted back, barely breathing, his eyes wide in shock. Mateo and Marjan were cuddled up on an armchair, both crying. Paul, the one that looked sober the most, always the grounded one, the one who handled stress the best, the strongest of them all, was talking to Owen, who was trying to figure out with Cass how to take the body out. 

_The body._

The parents and the kid were nowhere in sight. Carlos couldn’t bring himself to hate the them, it wasn’t their fault, but he desperately wanted to find someone to vomit all his his hate on that preferably wasn’t himself.

TK wasn’t his boyfriend, not officially. After the solar storm they had both agreed to try to cultivate what they felt for each other, but to go slow and steady. They decided to be mutually exclusive, they dated, kissed, had sex, but set the pace slow with big steps: no family introductions, no big gestures, no big words like _boyfriend_ or _love_ yet, nothing official.

Slow and steady. Carlos was okay with slow and steady, he really was. TK was his and his alone, and he got to see him when he wanted, he got to spend the night with him and wake up next to him, he got to make him dinner, he got to call him in the middle of the night if he wanted to hear his voice, and it was enough. He didn’t need to introduce him to his abuela or to tell him _I love you_ to be happy, if he knew they had all the time in the world to reach that point.

And they had. At least, he had thought they had, until that moment.

Because TK wasn’t the fierce, proud, energetic, cocky, generous, smart boy he gave his heart to, no, he was _the body_ buried sixteen feet under a pile of dirt, and mud, and dirty water. 

_The body._

* * *

It was cold, and dark. One moment he was looking up at Mateo and the kid disappearing out of the hole on the ground and one moment later he couldn’t breathe. He fell down on his back hard, the ground collapsing under his feet, all the air bursting out of his lungs. Everything he inhaled was dust, and water. He lit up the torch and looked up. 

“Ohhh fuck,” he groaned. There was no way out. He took his radio with shaky hands. 

“Captain Strand? Do you copy?” 

Nothing.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he hissed, hitting the radio with his free hand like the action could make it work. “Captain Strand? Anyone?”

He reluctantly stood up and found out the level of the water in the small cave was raising slowly but endlessly. He was going to drown down there if he waited too much.

He brought the radio close to his mouth for one last try. “Dad?” he asked, tentatively. “Dad, I’m still here. Please,” he said, his heart racing up, then waited.

When the answer he got was deafening silence he knew he was a lost cause. There was no way Owen Strand was going to ignore a call like that. He couldn’t hear him, TK was sure of it. 

He closed his eyes and sighed. The water was almost halfway to his knees now. 

_I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to die here alone,_ he thought, his chest raising and lowering fast, and he tried desperately to blink back tears. He couldn’t afford giving up now. He had to find a way to go back, he owed it to his father.

He had promised Owen months earlier he was going to have his back, and he couldn’t leave the man now, not when he needed him the most. 

And there was still the fact he hadn’t sorted out things with Carlos, too. It all looked so stupid, now. When he asked him to go slow he had meant it, of course. He really wanted to slow down and get everything right, as it should be. He had fallen for him, hard, when he barely knew him. He didn’t know when exactly, what he knew was when he realised. The night of the solar storm. It was then, months before, that he was certain for the first time he was not playing games anymore, he wanted to be all in, and yet he had been too scared to tell Carlos. He wanted to wait, because he didn’t need an Alex 2.0, he wasn’t going to jump into things too quickly and fuck it up. 

So he waited. And waited. And he was so close to give up, so close to finally tell him that it was okay, everything was settled now and they could take things seriously, he was planning to do it, really, but they worked a lot, and they never had the same nights off, and when they met they were so lost in making up for lost time he never had the time to tell him. And now he wasn’t going to anymore.

Everything hurted. He couldn’t breath. The water level was rising, and he didn’t know how long his torch was going to last. The radio wasn’t working. He was sixteen feet underground. So he did the most sensible thing to do: he started walking. Slowly, unsteady on his feet, his knees and back aching like hell, he walked towards a long tunnel in hope it was going to lead him somewhere. The water level was at his knees now and he could feel like the oxygen down there was running out. 

He decided to switch the torch off now that there was only one way to go, to save some battery for when he would have needed it the most. He walked and walked and lost track of time, it could have passed one hour, a day or five minutes, he had no idea. The only thing he knew was that if there were a way out, he would have found it. 

The water reached his chest when he really considered openly the idea that he was going to die, and his shoulders when he was certain he would have. 

He closed his eyes, frozen in fear. This was it, then. Cold, alone, aching, scared. That was how Tyler Kennedy Strand was supposed to die.

He was just going to let it be. His torch almost slipped from his fingers, and his knees were this close to betray him.

 _What was the point?_ He thought. _What was the point, in the end? Was it even worth it? Everything that lead me here, what was that for?_

He thought back to when his father changed. One day he was happy, confident, loving, and the day after it was like a switch had been turned off. All the life from his glacial eyes had been gone. He heard his mother yell at the phone again, he heard _What do you mean you aren’t coming home? It’s his birthday!_

He saw how he acted with his colleagues, the few times he visited him at work, and he felt the same sense of acidic envy looking at the way he hugged them, and smiled at them, and supported them.

He felt the same tears on his cheeks when he came out to his parents, then he felt the same stab in his chest as his mother left for good without looking back. He felt alone again after that. He tasted the drugs on his tongue, he felt dizzy again, the burning feeling of his throat filled with his vomit going all the way up when he overdosed for the first time. He heard the soothing words his father whispered _it’s not your fault, I’m here for you, I’ll never leave you behind, it’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with you, I know I haven’t been there kid but I’m going to be from now if you let me, I love you, I love you, I love you,_ and he believed him like he did the first time he heard them. 

He felt the stab of pride when he graduated, and a stronger one when he got in the Fire Dep, his father by his side just as he promised. 

He saw the orange warm fingers of the flames, he felt burning hot, the same electricity euphoria pumped in his veins when on a call. 

He felt Alex’s touch, a longing feeling, and something bad and ugly pierced his heart in two like the day he proposed, he watched him as he walked out of the restaurant, he tasted the pills again, and he wished to wipe off the world, _just let it stop, let it all stop, I don’t want to feel anymore, please, please._

He woke up with his father next to him, he felt engulfed by his crashing hug, relief and pain and shame when he understood he had just forgiven him once again.

Then he was in Austin again, and Carlos was asking him to dance, and he said yes again because there was nothing he wanted more, and he went home with him and he let him shove him on the couch and let him forget everything for a while, his mind numb and bright and hot. 

He found his father’s pills on his desk, the disappointment and fear ate him from inside once more, and he understood that it was his turn to be strong, the one to hold and he said again, louder this time, _I’ll have your back. I’ll have your back dad. You’re going to kick the crap out of this cancer._

He was shot, and everything fell down again, and he felt the same pain in his chest, and stopped breathing, and then he was waking up in his father’s arms again.

He was there during the solar storm, the woman was drowning, and he gave her the strength of his own lungs and everything he had, and it wasn’t enough. Then the team arrived, and that- that was enough. 

He was laying down on the car, and the sky was beautiful. He stared amazed at the view and then tilted his head to look at the amazing man next to him again, he remembered everything about him, the deep look in his eyes as he looked up in the sky, the reflection of the aurora borealis in his iris, the lips curled up in a half smile, the way his brows were slightly lifted up in interest, his relaxed limbs, and he heard the sound of his voice and felt the weight of his hand in his own as he took it again and thought once again _this is it for me, this is the one I want._

Then he felt the water linger on his lips, and knew his time was out. But he wasn’t going to give up. Because he knew the answer to the question now.

_Of course. Of course it was worth it. All the pain, the fear the mistakes, they were all worth it. And I want to make some more._

He took a gulp full of air and held his breath, going underwater. If he had to die, he was at least going to put up a good fight. He switched on the torch and freed himself of the uniform’s coat, and helmet, and boots and the heavy pants, everything that could prevent his movements or push him underwater when he tried to get back up. He opened his eyes, the dirty water was itchy and burned, but he didn’t care. 

He looked around, desperately trying to find a way out. He squeezed his eyes, than decided to switch the torch off again.

There was a faint light. A faint light he followed, swimming as fast as he could. 

Hope filled him and even if all his muscles ached and screamed he kept going. 

He lacked air. He needed to breathe. 

_So close. So close._ He thought, as he felt all his strength leaving him, approaching the light too slowly for his liking. 

_I need air. I need…_

He felt his mind abandoning him, but he had to keep going, he had to follow the light.

_I told her that her beautiful, strong, resilient kid will be on his feet in no time._

Who was it that said to him? Whose voice was it? What was happening? He didn’t know, all he knew was that he needed to breathe, he ached to.

With one last kick of his legs his head finally emerged and he gasped for air. He breathed hard, and fast, and the only sound he heard was the raspy sound of the air going in and out of his lungs. 

He lazily swam to the ground with the little strength he had left and he collapsed on the grass, closing in eyes and letting exhaustion get the best of him. 

It wasn’t raining anymore.

 _Was it raining before? Where am I? What happened?_ He thought, then everything went blank.

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was rising on the horizon and he had no idea where he was. He had no idea _who_ he was. 

Everything he remembered was being underwater, and not being able to breathe. He groaned, and looked around to focus on his surroundings. It looked like he was in some kind of woods, but he had no idea where. It was supposed to be New York maybe? He was almost sure that was where he lived. There was no city in sight, only trees. 

He struggled to stand up and looked down at himself. Why was he in the middle of a forest, with only his boxers on, near a small lake? Why was he so cold? And hungry? 

He had the feeling there was something important in his mind that was missing but he didn’t know what it was. 

He didn’t know what to do too, so he just started to walk. He had the feeling the only thing he did lately was walking, but he couldn’t be sure about that because he didn’t remember what he ever did at all.

When he finally found a street, his feet were bleeding profusely and his legs ached like hell. He spotted a gas station and rushed to get there, the pain on his limbs and the cold suddenly forgotten. 

He heard voices, and there was a long truck with the back half open, and he peeked inside to look in the cargo space, looking for someone to be there. 

What he saw wasn’t a person but made his heart literally swoon anyway. 

Food cans. Plenty of food cans.

“God, yes,” he groaned, jumping in. His throat was sore and those were the first words he had pronounced all day. Going inside he inadvertently closed the truck doors behind him, but he paid no mind to it. It was warm inside, and comforting. 

He looked closer at the cans, and found out they were bean cans.

“Perfect,” he whispered, as he opened one and started eating with his hands, nearly breathing the food in for eating too fast. 

“Oh, thank God, thank God,” he whispered, feeling his bones warm up and his body coming back to life with the food, drinking the liquid left in the can, feeling the need of water.

He heard the sound of a door slamming shut and yelled “hey!” but whoever it was didn’t listen. The truck started suddenly, and he sensed it was moving.

“Well, fuck,” he sighed, sitting on some of the boxes, hitting the cargo space’s walls with his head in frustration. “I hope they’re going to stop soon enough.”

* * *

They had looked for the body for the whole night and the day afterwards. 

To be fair, for the first twenty four hours he had kept on with the hope they were going to find him alive, but there was no way someone could have survived stuck down there with no light, no food, no water, no oxygen supply for so long. 

TK was gone. It was time to accept it. 

The problem was he couldn’t.

When he finally got back home, almost two days after, he didn’t think he could ever feel more miserable than he was at the moment. He felt a dull ache in his chest that made his mind cold and fuzzy.

He struggled to open the door with the keys and he didn’t even make it to the bed. He took off his shoes and collapsed on the couch, trying not to think about all the heated moments and, fewer times, all the lazy afternoons he spent there with TK in the past months. He had cried enough in the last two days, he couldn’t afford another crying session, or he was seriously going to dehydrate himself. 

He felt the phone buzz in his pocket and checked who was calling him. For one moment his heart stopped, seeing TK’s ID on the screen. It was an old text of his, from before last call. He hadn’t looked at his phone for days. He blinked and focused on the caller. It was Michelle.

“Hey.”

_“Hey, Carlos. Where are you? Still on the road? You shouldn’t pick up the phone while driving.”_

“I’m home,” he sighed, slightly annoyed by her mother hen attitude. She tended to be bossy when she was worried. He couldn’t handle bossy right now. He couldn’t handle anything or anyone right now to be completely honest.

 _“You promised me to text me as soon as you were home,”_ the woman scolded him, and Carlos groaned.

“What do you want, Michelle?”

_“I’m just trying to check on you, see if you’re okay.”_

“Ah! Fun use of words,” he scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “No, I guess I’m not.”

_“Okay, sorry. Of course you’re not okay. That was stupid. Do you need something? I’ll do anything, I swear.”_

“Just leave me alone, Michelle. I want to be on my own for a while. I took a few days off work.”

_“That’s… good. That’s good, okay. You sure you don’t need-”_

“I’m sure. Seriously, just give me a break. I need space.”

_“Right. Legit. But I’m going to check once in a while, I’m not going to leave you all alone. Let me call at least once a day.”_

Carlos sighed, looking at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. “Once a day, okay. So today we’re done. Goodbye Michelle.”

_“Carlos, listen-”_

He didn’t hear the end of the line because he had already hung up. He sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn’t cry with his eyes closed, could he? He only wanted it to stop. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to sleep, and preferably not to wake up again. 

Unfortunately, he woke up no long after the sleep claimed him, and he reluctantly had to come into terms that he had to change his clothes. He had spent the past two days with his uniform on, and it was in ungodly conditions. He checked his phone mindlessly, being extra careful not to swipe off the first notification on the screen.

_TK: See you after shift! Stay safe!_

He ignored the sudden pain in his chest as he looked for the information he needed. 

_Cap. Strand: Thursday, 9am, Funeral Home Serenity Chapel._

He held his breath as he opened the chat and texted quickly _I’ll be there. Is there something I can do to help?_

Because even if he didn’t want anyone to helicopter parent him, he wanted Owen to feel better. He knew that was what TK would have wanted. 

_Cap. Strand: Don’t worry, son. I’ve got everything sorted out. Take care._

Carlos groaned, rubbing his eyes. _Thursday._ That meant he had two days to pull himself together, and he knew exactly what he had to do for that.

He needed a break, he wanted to silence every voice around him for a while, to forget everything Austin related not to go crazy. He needed his family.

He quickly typed the number on his phone and called his favourite cousin.

_“Hello?”_

“Hi Sofia,” he sighed, and heard the girl gasp at the other end of the line.

 _“Carlos! What’s wrong? You sound like shit,”_ she said, her voice slightly worried. _“And you never call. Is tia Rosa okay? Are you?”_

“Yeah, mama is perfectly fine. Listen, do you remember when you said I could come visit you whenever I wished?”

_“Of course I do, I told you several times.”_

“I really need a way out, if the offer still stands.”

_“I can’t wait. How long are you planning to stay?”_

“Only two days. But I’m already telling you I won’t be much of a company.”

_“Nothing better than a bit of Reyes love to cheer you up, huh?”_

“Yeah. Exactly,” he whispered, trying to sound more confident than he was. 

_“Now please, hurry. It’s just so unusual for you to be like this, I want to see you in person.”_

“Let me change into civilian clothes and I’m coming. Thanks, Sofia.”

_“Any time, cariño.”_

He hung up and forced himself to stand. He reluctantly texted Michelle _going to Louisiana to see my relatives – don’t call me I’m fine_ and switched off the data on his phone. He knew he was being rude and mean towards his friend, but she had to understand he wanted to be alone for a while. Plus, he had every right to be rude and mean at the moment. 

He avoided to look at the bed where he knew there was one of the old shirts TK used to sleep in, forgotten there when they left in a rush that last morning, and stripped quietly. If the shower was supposed to bring some comfort to him, he guessed it didn’t work.

The last mischievous look and half smirk with the small nod before going down the hole kept replaying in his mind non stop. 

When the water stopped flowing and he finally dressed up – not with the shirt, even if the idea had crossed his mind, he wasn’t there yet, it would have been too heartbreaking to put on _his_ shirt already – he grabbed a mouthful of cereals just not to pass out while driving and ran out of the house without a second look. 

He could have taken a flight he supposed, but he didn’t have the clear mind to book one, and four hours of driving weren’t anything he wasn’t used to, so he decided to take the road trip. 

He didn’t go to Lake Charles so often, it was a little too far for his liking, and he didn’t really appreciate his uncle and aunt’s conservative tendencies even if they were generally good people, but Sofia was his favourite cousin and his own parents and sisters were too far for a quick visit, so here he was. 

He tried to listen to music but quickly decided to shut it off. He liked the silence, the sound of the air when other cars overtook his, the faint noise of the engine, and occasionally the sing of some birds from the trees when the road became smaller.

He knew the address of his cousin’s place by heart. Sofia was two years older than him, and they had always been close. She was a teacher, a kind, optimist young woman, the first in his family Carlos came out to, his first real friend. 

He sent a brief text to tell her he was close as soon as he got into the city, and when he finally spotted her house he saw her waiting for him outside, with her arms crossed and a worried frown.

Carlos pulled over and got off the car, without locking it with the keys. Let them steal it if they wanted, fuck it.

“Carlos!” Sofia called, and when he looked at his face realised how bad it was. “Que tienes?” 

She approached him as he walked and crashed him in a hug. He held her tight, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, and sniffing, trying to swallow back a sob. 

“Wow, it’s bad. I didn’t get it was this bad. What happened?” she whispered, caressing his back, giving him a small peck on the temple.

“Don’t really want to talk about it, Sofi”

“All right,” she whispered, giving him a last pat on the back. “Come in, I’ll cook something for you, I bet you didn’t have breakfast, and it’s almost lunch time.”

“That’s why you’re my favourite cousin!” he said, with the very first real smile he made in two days. It was a weak smile, but it was still a start.

“And you’re mine,” she said, leading him inside. “Now sit down, I’ll do all the work. Now now, you said you don’t want to talk about it, so what do you wanna do?”

He took a seat next to the kitchen counter, and he watched as she grabbed the jalapeños from the fridge and started to chop them mindlessly.

“I don’t know,” he said, unlocking the phone screen and looking down for a moment. 

_See you after shift! Stay safe!_ TK told him from the screen, and he flinched.

“Just tell me something. Anything. Maybe nothing depressing, but literally anything would be fine.”

“Okay, so, something silly!” she said, taking the pan and starting to turn on the stove. “I know exactly what you need!”

Carlos nodded, leaning on the counter, tilting his head on the side, trying to give Sofia his full attention. He needed to think about something else for a while.

“There’s Stan!”

“Stan? Who’s Stan? Your new boyfriend?”

She scoffed. “Nah, nothing as such. Stan is a weird guy, a truck driver found him the other day, naked and passed out, surrounded by bean cans, on the back of his truck when he stopped at a gas station in town. It was _insane_.”

Carlos frowned. “What the fuck? You’re making it up!” 

“No, I swear! It made it on the local news! It was epic. They brought him to the police station, obviously, and mama was there because she just got mugged.”

“Tia Alba was mugged?”

“Yeah, but that’s another story, just follow me okay?”

Carlos nodded in interest. He was almost succeeding at ignoring the sense of dread that had never left him in the past days. 

“So, mama was there and overheard the conversation, you know how she is. She can’t say no to some juicy gossip. It turned out the man had no idea who he was, or where he came from, or even when he got on the truck. They looked for all the missing people reports on the server and found nothing that looked like him, so no clue. He decided to be called Stan because the name reminded him of something, but we can’t be sure he’s really named like that. Mama got pity on him and she brought him home, he didn’t have anywhere to go.”

“Really? So he’s living at your mother’s house?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “He’s kinda cute, by the way. And got obsessed with Puffy, and Puffy _reciprocates_.”

Carlos shook his head. There was no way someone could love the nightmarish chihuahua his uncle owned, that dog looked more like an ugly, pissed off rat than an actual dog. 

“I was still with you with the memory loss adventure and the bean cans, but I really can’t buy this.”

“I swear to God! And Puffy didn’t even bark at thin once!” she said, then went on,“anyway, they took him to the doctor’s office and apparently he almost drowned or something, and the lack of oxygen caused the memory loss. But nobody reported him missing so he probably lives alone and doesn’t have a job.”

“That’s awful. What is he going to do now?” 

“Honestly? I have no idea. He’s kinda built like a brick wall so I guess he’s going to do some work in the neighborhood to raise some money and then he’ll just look for a place to settle down? Somehow? Doctor said his memory could come back but it’s going to be quicker if someone tells him what happened and who he is, but we can’t find anyone he knows so it’s not gonna happen.”

“Why does it sound like you have a crush on the guy?” Carlos asked, looking at her with one brow raised.

Sofia scoffed. “Please, the poor kid is as straight as a boomerang. I’m just thinking that maybe he could cheer you up, you know, I don’t know what happened to you but it looks a lot like an heartbreak, and you could use a little hookup.”

Carlos froze, sitting on his chair, as he stared at his cousin. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on, don’t be a spoilsport, whatever it was it-”

“No, I don’t want a hookup, I don’t even want to talk about it,” he said, the idea made him feel sick to the stomach. 

He glanced down at his phone screen again. 

_See you after shift! Stay safe!_

Now he was gone and they were already trying to settle him with someone else.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

“Carlos, listen, I’m sorry-”

“It’s just… it will take a minute, okay? I just have to freshen up a bit.”

He quickly excused himself and left his cousin to cook their lunch. He needed to tell her, he wouldn’t have survived another suggestion like the last one. There was nothing he would despise more than a hookup right now, the idea made his stomach churn uncomfortably on the inside, and he immediately thought about the body, that was still there, underground, waiting for no one to find it and give it a decent burial.

He immediately understood what he needed. He needed to do something he would have never associated with TK, something that could make him forget for a while.

He dabbed his face with a towel, letting out a long defeated sigh and raced to the kitchen.

“Do you have alcohol?” he asked, peeking in the kitchen door.

The woman looked at him with a frown, almost ready with the food. “I’m a 28 year old woman, I’m clinically single and I live alone. What do you think?”

“I’m getting wasted tonight.”

“I don’t think this is the best idea, honestly…”

“Sofia, I’m here because I thought you would have been supportive,” he said, sitting back at the counter and looking at her with exhausted wet eyes.

His cousin sighed. “All right. We’re getting wasted tonight.”

* * *

After lunch, with his stomach full, TK was staring at his notebook with tired eyes, while Mrs Reyes served him some coffee. 

“Is the sink okay now ma’am?” he asked, sipping at it without looking up.

“Si darling, you did a great job. I haven’t managed to get it right in ages and my husband just doesn’t have the time to do it.” 

“No worries,” the man whispered. “I owe you a lot.”

“I’m just giving help to the one who needs it the most,” Alba said starting to get the dishes done, “anybody else would have done the same.”

“I highly doubt it, ma’am.”

“Did you make any progress?” she asked, peeking at the notebook behind his shoulder.

“Afraid not,” he muttered, circling the words _New York_ with a pen. 

He stared at the list of names in frustration. He wrote down everything that rang a bell to him, trying to figure out how he was really called, but he wasn’t sure about anything, and some of them weren’t even proper names.

~~_Stramp_ ~~

~~_Stand_ ~~

_ Stan!? _

_~~Alex~~ _

_Owen_ _??_

_DJ_

~~_Cody_ ~~

Then there were the things he remembered, the images that every once in a while jumped in his head, apparently disconnected.

  1. _Fire_
  2. _Hot_
  3. _Ice blue eyes_
  4. _Green lights in the sky (?)_
  5. _Warm smile_
  6. _Cancer (Maybe I'm a doctor? Hope I don't have this)_
  7. _Tiger (?)_
  8. _Dark and wet_
  9. _Need air_
  10. _Bullet scar ( cop? ~~criminal~~? military?)_



And the last two names on the page.

 _New York City_ and _somewhere in Texas????_

But NYC seemed the most accurate option, so he was going to go with it.

“DJ,” the woman chuckled. “That’s not even a real name,” she said.

“I know, I just… I can feel there’s something, well, more than something missing and I can’t get what it is.”

“It must be really unnerving, niño.”

“It is. It’s the worst,” he said, throwing the notebook on the couch and letting out a frustrated groan.

“Why don’t you take out Puffy for a walk, Stanley? You’ll relax a bit, and el monstruo loves you somehow, he’d enjoy a walk with you.”

“Not Stanley,” he corrected. “Only Stan. Stramp? S… Stand? I don’t know. It must be Stan. But not Stanley, Stanley does not ring any bell. Stan does.”

“Well, okay then, _Stan._ Why don’t you take Puffy out for a bit?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, maybe I should,” he said, whistling to call the little freak. 

_Puffy_ was a constantly pissed off chihuahua that for some reason appeared to like him a lot. Mrs. Reyes always said it was some kind of miracle, and that maybe he didn’t remember who he was because he came from another planet. 

When the dog came bringing his collar, the man was free to go.

He liked Lake Charles, but he could feel it was not where he belonged. And he could feel he missed something, someone. He couldn’t tell who they were, a family maybe, or a significant other, or his friends, maybe all these things combined, but the loss made his chest ache. 

But if he had a family, a significant other, friends, why did no one report his missing? What if he was alone?

That was the thought that was haunting him more than anything else, what he feared the most. He wanted to go back where he belonged, but what if he didn’t belong anywhere? With anyone?

He walked with the dog running behind him, following his pace. 

The day before he had been found in the back of a truck, severely dehydrated, naked and confused. He had been brought to the police station, then to the hospital, and they said the lack of oxygen for almost drowning to death had caused his memory loss. Alba Reyes had been there, and offered him a home, and he obviously took the chance with enthusiasm helping her with her household, but he knew he couldn’t be with her forever. 

And at night there were the nightmares. 

He could hear a woman calling for “Cody”, he had no idea if it was him or not. The only thing he could see was dark, and he felt his lungs scream. He always woke up in cold sweat after that. It happened three times last night and he was feeling beyond tired.

He passed near Mrs. Reyes’ daughter’s house and thought about knocking the door to say hi, but he could see she had guests, a second car parked just in front of her porch, and he didn’t want to impose. 

The car was a blue Camaro that gave him chills to his back, and he got closer to look at it with attentive eyes. 

“I have to add _blue car_ and _Camaro_ to the list,” he whispered to himself. Puffy barked in agreement.

TK glanced one last time at the blue car, then at the door and then decided to go on with his walk.

* * *

Carlos and Sofia had just finished dinner. They had watched the fifth season of Brooklyn99 that afternoon and then the woman had made him Reyes’ infamous Chicken Enchiladas for dinner, and Carlos was feeling just a bit less miserable. He had managed to think about something else for a second two times that day, and that was two times more than the day before. 

Both times it had lasted less than the blink of an eye, but Carlos was a positive guy, and he knew it was still better than nothing at all. 

“So,” he said, unlocking his phone screen for the umpteenth time that day. He didn’t want to wipe off the notifications yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to let go of _his_ last text yet. He needed it. “What’s on the house today?”

Sofia sighed. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said, “but I have half a bottle of tequila.”

“That would be great!”

“You’re not drinking all of it, I don’t want to drive you to the hospital tonight, Carlos.”

“I won’t need all of it. I’m not used to drink anymore, I’ve been avoiding it the last few months,” he whispered, but he didn’t want to focus on why he had quitted drinking lately. He just wanted to do it again.

Sofia rolled her eyes but took the bottle from one of the upper shelves, then took two small shot glasses and put them on the counter, bringing some salt and lemons with her.

She poured them and Carlos quickly took one in hand and downed it without a second thought. “More,” he said, after a little cough.

“Woah. Calm down, Rambo. You’re going to throw up.”

“More,” Carlos repeated, handing her the glass and looking at her in the eyes.

She held his gaze for a few moments, then sighed and poured him another one. He downed it again. 

Carlos grimaced, the bitter taste of alcohol burning his throat. He really didn’t like it how he used to, probably he was never going to enjoy a good drink anymore. His cheeks were already burning.

“Have you heard about the dead firefighter the other day, right?” Carlos asked, his voice already croaked, as Sofia was biting a lemon slice to mix with the taste of tequila in her mouth. 

“I haven’t actually. What happened?”

Carlos blinked in confusion. “It was all over the news,” he said.

“Maybe it was a statewide thing,” she shrugged. “It’s the first time I hear about this.”

“Well, there was this fireman that died the other day,” he said, giving her his glass again. “More.”

Sofia knew better than to argue this time, so she took the glass without complaining, glad that her cousin has started to open up.

“So what? Were you there?”

“Yes, I was there,” he said, waiting for his glass before he could finish. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, handing it back to him now full. “It must have been awful. But that’s not it I guess. You’ve lost people on the job before.”

Carlos downed the shot glass like it was water. He was starting to feel nauseous, but he didn’t mind. It helped, actually. At least he had another reason to feel like that, a better reason, a less heartbreaking reason.

“That’s not it, no,” he said, fidgeting with the now empty glass and staring at it without looking up. “We were seeing each other. We’ve been dating for months. I really liked him, actually.”

“Dios mio, Carlos!”

“I didn’t tell anyone because he wanted to make things right and slow but it was working this time, you know. And now-” he gasped for air, unable to say anything more. 

She had rose up to her feet and came closer, holding him tight, and gave him an affectionate kiss on his forehead. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I’m sorry. I got you okay? You can stay here as long as you want. I love you, I love you,” she whispered in his ear, rubbing his back, and he couldn’t hold back tears anymore.

“I’m lost. I’m so lost, Sofia. Solo quiero dormir y no despertar jamàs,” he whispered. “No tengo ganas de hacer nada, de trabajar, no quiero pensar, quiero solo de dormir.”

“I’m here. I’m here for you, okay? I’m here.”

* * *

When TK woke up the next day, it was in cold sweat again.

“Fuck,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He still felt his heart running wild, and the cold water in his nose and mouth, the darkness surrounding him and crushing him under the weight of the void, a deep feeling of loneliness in his heart. 

He blinked his eyes open slowly, and looked around to ground himself. It was Sofia’s old room, the nice daughter of the woman that was making him sleep under a roof in this hell of days. There was an old guitar, some college books, dozens of shelves full of novels, a reading lamp, and some butterfly stickers on the wall. 

It wasn’t really his thing, but again, he wasn’t sure what was his thing in the matter of bedrooms, and at least he had a place to sleep and something to eat.

He sighed and put the purple slippers on, going slowly to the kitchen, were the woman was making chilaquiles for breakfast. Mr Reyes had to be already at work.

“Are you hungry, niño?” she asked, already full woken up, eyes bright.

“Starving,” he said. The lack of sleep made him hungry, apparently.

“Come eat, I can see you’re way too thin. Whoever used to take care for you has to cook more.”

“I think the one that used to take care of me was me,” he muttered, sitting down at the kitchen table and waiting for the food. “Otherwise someone would have reported my missing.”

“Well, in that case you have to learn how to cook,” she said, with a warm smile.

“Probably. I don’t think I know how to.”

“After you eat you have to do something for me, if you’re up to it.”

“Everything,” he said, the smell of food already making his mouth water. “I’m at your service ma’am, you know this.”

“You have to bring some of it to my daughter for breakfast. She loves when I make those.”

“Of course, I’ll do it.”

When he had finished eating and got dressed with Mr Reyes’ old clothes – some grey sweatpants and a faded yellow tee shirt – he took a tray of chilaquiles rojos and got outside, the cool morning air clearing his mind. 

He jogged all the way there – he enjoyed running, he quickly took his notebook out of his pocket to add _runner?_ to the list – and finally knocked the door. 

The young woman opened the door with a welcoming smile on her face. “Mama texted me you were coming! I’m so hungry, you have no idea!” she said, in half a whisper.

The confused frown on his face made her clarify as he came inside: “my cousin Carlos is here. He’s still sleeping, he’s having a really rough time, I don’t want to wake him up. Don’t be loud.”

TK nodded, then took his notebook again. “Carlos you said, huh? The name rings a bell!” he whispered, putting the tray on the table. 

“ _Carlos_? Seriously? You think that’s how you’re called?”

He shrugged. “Unlikely but not impossible. Besides, the name really gives me a familiar feeling,” he mumbled, adding _Carlos_ on the page and circling it twice.

“I’m sorry darling but you definitely don’t look like anyone named Carlos,” she joked.

“Didn’t know there was one specific look for people called Carlos,” he mumbled, staring at the page like it could give him all the answers he needed. 

“Yesterday you said you were probably named Owie!” 

“Owen,” he corrected. “I said Owen.”

“And Alex too. Don’t forget Alex.” 

“I don’t think I’m called Alex, though. It gives me feelings but like, weird ones. It makes me feel anxious.”

He heard the door slid open, then a strangled sound. He bit his lower lip, without looking up from the paper.

“TK,” he heard, as a whisper.

“I don’t remember him saying TK. Is it even a name?”

“I didn’t say it,” he mumbled, “but that _does_ ring a bell. A lot. Maybe that’s what I meant with DJ?” he asked, mostly to himself.

“I’m still sleeping, am I? I was hoping to dream of you, honestly. Dios, I’m so gonna regret it once I wake up.”

“Huh?” TK asked, looking up from the page at last. 

There was a man staring at him, with his eyes wide and his lips sealed in a tight line. He was looking at him like a man could have looked at a cliff, like he was wondering if he should jump. 

The sight definitely made him feel something. The more he noticed the details on his face, his eyes, his lips, his jawline, the more something in his mind screamed _this one! He’s it! He’s the answer! You found it!_

“Carlos, you’re scaring me,” Sofia said, slowly.

“Excuse me, do I know you?” TK couldn’t help but ask, and the man smiled.

The man stepped forward, straight into his comfort zone, and grabbed his face with both his hands. TK flinched but didn’t push him away. He felt surprisingly okay with that. 

“I’m calling 911, he’s like, having a stroke or something,” Sofia said, looking for her phone.

“Don’t,” TK said, “I think I know him.”

“I’d already almost forgotten you were this beautiful,” Carlos whispered, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “If someone wakes me up right now I’m seriously going to kill them.”

“Carlos, you’re awake. Do you want me to call for help? What happened?” Sofia asked carefully.

Carlos frowned. “Honestly Sofi I don’t even know why you’re here, my subconscious probably hates me. I’d rather you disappear right now.”

TK suppressed a laugh, he didn’t want to be rude, but whoever this man was he was certain they knew each other really well. He remembered a smile, a brief flash of a smile, and green lights in the sky and feeling happy.

Sofia looked at them for a moment with an unreadable expression, then slapped Carlos’ shoulder with all her strength. 

“What the fuck?!” he jumped, looking away from him at last. 

“You’re awake and scaring me, so stop.”

His eyes widened. He looked at TK, then back at Sofia in shock. “I’m awake,” he whispered. 

Carlos turned to gave him his full attention. He looked like he was seeing a ghost, on the verge of passing out. “You’re here. For real. You’re, you’re okay. I thought you were-”

“Do you know who I am, don’t you?” 

His dark eyes looked deep through him, and TK felt exposed for the first time since he remembered, for the first time in the last two and a half days. 

The next thing he knew was that a hug was crashing him. He found himself reciprocating the hug easily, with an automated gesture, like he did it hundreds of times before. 

“Yes,” he heard, coming from the crook of his neck where Carlos’ mouth was, “yes we know each other.”

He looked at Sofia over Carlos’ shoulder, still holding him. She looked back at him mirroring his confused expression.

“Your name is Tyler Kennedy Strand, but everyone calls you TK,” Carlos said, filling another puzzle piece. 

“ _Strand_! Ah! I knew Stan had something familiar! Am I a cop? I’ve a bullet scar on my shoulder”

“No,” Carlos said, squeezing him tight, “you’ve been shot on a call but you’re not a cop, you’re a firefighter.”

Sofia tensed suddenly and a light of understanding flashed in her eyes.

“Why did no one report my missing? Do I live alone?”

“No,” he sighed, “we didn’t report your missing because we thought you were dead. I thought you were-” his voice broke on the last words and TK felt Carlos’ lips press closed to the curve of his neck, the man trying to silence himself.

“I’m not alone,” he said with a proud smile. “I remember something now.”

“No, you’re not. You have a mother, a father whom you live with, colleagues and friends. And a… _date_.”

“A _date_? Is this high school?” TK asked with a smirk.

“Tell that to yourself, tiger. You didn’t want to push, I was the one for the all in from the start.”

He let the words sink in, and when they hit him he gasped. “You-”

Carlos seemed to realise what he just said because he tensed. “I’m sorry! I know it’s probably… it’s probably a lot, just-”

“No, it’s okay. I want to know. I remember something. I want to know more” TK moved, and Carlos had reluctantly to let go, but he didn’t step back. He was still facing him and looking at him like he was afraid he could disappear at any moment.

“I’m not going to recover if this is a dream.”

“We’re lucky it’s not, then,” TK said, tracing his jawline with his knuckles, looking at it. “I think I remember you. We were on a car, a blue one, I think it’s the one you have outside. And the sky was weird, it was green. It’s one of the happy memories.”

“Yeah, it was the night of the solar storm,” Carlos whispered, grabbing his wrist and kissing his knuckles. “We decided to start dating that night.”

“I remember a man with blue eyes. I liked him.”

“It’s probably your father, Owen,” Carlos said, then froze. “Owen! Fuck, I have- I have to call him. No! It’s insane, it’s not something I can tell on the phone. I have to bring you to him. We have to go now. Your funeral… your funeral is supposed to be tomorrow! We have to stop it!”

“We are… we’re going now?”

“Yes, he’s hurting, you’re his whole life, you have to go back! You… you want to come back, do you?”

TK had no doubt about that. “Yes. Of course I want to come back.”

“Well,” Sofia’s voice said, and only then TK remembered she was still there. “These days were really an emotional rollercoaster, so thank you guys for that.”

* * *

When they had explained everything to his aunt and uncle, Carlos still felt like he was living in a dream. 

They got in the car as soon as they could, and he texted Owen asking him where he was going to be in four hours. 

TK looked lost, not really like himself, and Carlos had to use all his willpower not to hug him tight again, or kiss him wild like he had wanted to do once he realised it was _really_ him. 

“So,” he said, starting the car and keeping his eyes fixed on the road. “Can you explain to me how did you get from sixteen feet underground in Texas to Lake Charles?”

“Oh,” TK’s voice sounded confused. “I don’t really know. I remember water, lots of it, and being alone. Then I woke up naked near a lake in the woods and I didn’t remember how I got there or who I was, so walking sounded like the most sensible choice, so I did it. I saw a gas station and there was this truck, it had food and I was starving so I climbed there but I closed myself in. The driver didn’t notice I was there and I ended up in Lake Charles.”

“That… must have been horrible,” he said. “I’m sorry we didn’t think you could have come out. I didn’t want to be delusional and I didn’t even think about it. I’m sorry.”

“You found me anyway, so that’s all right. And seeing you… it helps. Things are starting to come back, slowly.”

“What do you remember?” Carlos asked, because he didn’t want to look at him but he didn’t want for him to be silent either. He needed to know he was there, he was real, safe and sound. He wanted to hear his voice.

“A lot of things. Images with no context, mostly. The blue eyed man, Owen. I remember him being at my graduation party, I guess. And in a hospital. I remember he told me things. That I was brave, and resilient. I remember a dog,” he mumbled.

“Buttercup, yeah. Buttercup is your dog. You didn’t like him at first or pretended you didn’t, but you two are so in love.”

“I remember the dog used to make me sad, yes. And I remember you, too. You’re a cop, are you?”

“I am a cop,” he said, “looks like you’re getting better.”

“Yeah, I feel better. I think seeing you is helping me. The doctor said familiar things could help memories to come back faster.”

Carlos nodded and mindlessly took the phone from his pocket and handed it to him without looking at him in the eyes. “Here, take it. Get a look at the camera roll, it’s full of pictures of you and your team. Maybe it could help.”

An excited “oh, that’s perfect, thank you!” made it immediately worth it, then TK added “uh, I don’t know how to unlock it.”

“Oh, I… I didn’t think about it,” he muttered, he had to admit that hurted a bit. He quickly told him the password and then TK was soon scrolling through his pictures. 

Carlos really wanted to see his face, he wanted to see how he felt looking at the pictures on his phone. Confused? Understanding? Disappointed? Curios? But he knew he couldn’t afford it without thinking about kissing him again, so he didn’t. 

“Oh, okay, this girl, I remember her. Marge. No, Marcy? No…”

“Marjan?” Carlos suggested. 

“Yeah! Marjan! Exactly! And this one is Judd and…” TK stayed silent for a few moments. “Carlos?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this my father?” he asked, his voice surprisingly soft. Carlos looked away from the road for one moment, to take a quick glance at the phone screen.

It was a picture of Owen and Buttercup, one that TK sent him a week before, with the two sleeping together on the couch. He even remember the caption. 

_“TK, I won’t ever accept animals in my house”, captain Strand, year of the Lord 2008. Twelve years later, and look at the asshole._

“That is your father, Owen Strand.”

“He’s ill, is he? I remember him being ill.”

“He’s getting better,” Carlos said.

“I love him,” TK whispered, and this time he didn’t question it.

“And he loves you. He’s going to helicopter parent you for months after this.”

TK groaned. “I don’t like when people make a fuss about me.”

Carlos smiled. “I know. But get used to it, because I won’t let you out of my sight anytime soon just like him.”

The man didn’t protest so Carlos counted it as a win. He kept teaching him the name of his friends and the relatives he knew and he could see he was slowly improving. The first two hours passed, and it already looked a lot better.

Suddenly, he sensed him flinch on the passenger seat. 

“What is it? Are you… are you okay?”

“I got shot by a kid!” he said, “a kid shot me!”

“You got shot by a kid, it wasn’t really pleasant.”

“Why do I have such bad luck?”

“I have no idea, trust me. I ask that to myself every day of my life since I met you.”

After that, TK got quiet. Carlos waited for a few minutes for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he locked Carlos’ phone silently and put it on the dashboard. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, trying not to sound too worried.

“Could you please pull over?”

Carlos blinked in confusion. “ _Pull over_? Why would I?”

“Carlos,” TK said, and the confidence he said it with, like he knew exactly who he was talking to, exactly who Carlos was, startled him. “Please, pull over.”

And he could nothing but to do exactly what he asked, so once it was safe with the traffic he signaled and got out of the road. 

“What is it?” he asked, finally looking at him. “Do I have to call for help? Are you okay?” 

He let his eyes check for any sign of injuries or discomfort. He couldn’t find any, but he spotted a glimpse of emotions in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry but if I have to wait another minute to kiss you I think I’m going to jump off the car,” he said, shrugging.

“What? Wait, do you remember more? What-”

“I remember enough,” he said, and the next thing Carlos knew was that he was finally kissing him. 

For a brief second he thought _if this is a dream, I am seriously not going to survive when I wake up,_ but he let this thought die as soon as his brain shut off completely, because they were kissing, in his car, like a thousand times before, and he believed he was never going to do that again, and there was nothing in the world that mattered more. 

He cupped his neck and heard a faint sigh as their tongues finally met. TK had the same taste in his mouth, the same smell even with someone else’s clothes on, he made the same demanding sounds when kissing that made Carlos go wild, he held him firmly like he always did. It was like coming back home, and it was too much. 

Carlos had to part, gasping for air. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that without a warning it was…” TK rambled, then stopped for a moment. “Are you crying?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered, then touched his eyes, finding out they were wet. “I guess?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to.”

“I thought you were dead,” he said, closing his eyes. He felt a hand touch his cheek. 

“But I’m not.”

“Please, come here,” he let out, and let his head fall back on the car seat. He heard TK’s seatbelt unfastening and the passenger’s car door slamming. 

A few second later his car door was opening and suddenly he felt a weight on his lap, and a pair of arms holding him close. He kept his eyes closed, hiding his face in the crook of his neck and breathing him in. 

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” TK whispered, carding a hand in his hair and playing with it. He pressed a small kiss to the top of his head and Carlos let himself relax and be held. 

After a few minutes of soothing words and caresses Carlos sighed, holding him tighter for a small second and letting go of him. “We should really go home, I have to take you to your father’s place. He’s in pain and I want him to see you asap.”

“We’re going, but only if you’re all right,” TK said, scanning him with a worried look.

Carlos nodded. “I am. As long as you don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere. And you’re sleeping at my place tonight.”

“That is out of question,” Carlos said. “I told you, I’m not letting you out of my sight any time soon. Now jump off tiger, we gotta get your old man. He’s going to have an heart attack.”

TK smirked with that familiar smirk that always succeeded at making Carlos’ knees weak. He kissed him one last time on the lips and went off the car.

“Let’s go get my old man a heart attack, officer Reyes. I can’t wait to be back home.”


End file.
